At approximately 1:50am Thursday morning, I was awoken by someone shouting outside my apartment.

"...you fuckers! How 'bout some NICE, HOT DONUTS!"

There was more leading up to the "you fuckers" part that I wasn't quite awake for, the jist, however, seemed to be decrying the bourgeois suburban nature of my apartment complex, possibly the whole town. The donut line was delivered with taunting disgust. "If your values are so shallow that all you care about are things like donuts, HERE, have some, you vapid capitalist swine," it seemed to say. I fully expected the thud of a sack of donuts hitting the building/ground/neighbors to follow, but it did not. The shouting seemed to fade in gradually, as if the perpetrator was riding by on a bicycle, or in a car.

I sat for several moments waiting to hear more, but there was only silence. I wondered if the neighbors had heard it, or if they had done it. I wondered if I had merely dreamt it, but thought that impossible as my eyes were wide open and I was already awake for the donut bit. Finally I noted the time, decided that it was the work of a disorderly drunk en route from the neighborhood bar, or a band of idealistic teenagers rebelling against their community, and went back to sleep.

Later, I recounted the tale to my best friend, Janis, and we giggled over this ridiculous, pastry-based, social commentary. "It's even BETTER that you aren't sure if it was real or not," she said.

That evening, we pondered the episode, and I noted that the day before, I had concluded suburban life was not for me. We had also discussed how Janis would never fit in with our 'burb's prissily perfect Stepford moms.

Then I recalled how earlier in the week, I'd spent an entire work day anxiously waiting to go home and eat some donuts I'd bought, only to be disappointed when I found them hot and melted after sitting on the kitchen counter in my stuffy apartment all day.

OK, so it was pretty obvious it was a dream. Then Janis pointed out that the way the sound seemed to fade in gradually, then stopped shortly after I became fully conscious..."I think YOU'RE the one who was doing the shouting." And we died laughing, because we both knew she was right.

That's right, I was shouting in my sleep. Angry, indignant shouting. At 2am. About donuts. NICE, HOT donuts.

And to think all this time I've been worried about the neighbors hearing me sing. I should be more concerned that they're going to have me put away!